Evading the Question
by Hornswaggler
Summary: Reid has always been a little more behind the scenes than some of the team. When he and Morgan visit a victim, however, they run across a certain doctor who singles him out right away. Short one-shot, title subject to a change!


**Author's Note:**

**So this is a random thing Waggy wrote to get her muse flowing again. It took like, a day. XD I started brainstorming the thing last night.**

**No real plot, just an attempt at a crossover between my two favorite shows. :3 No, I don't know anything about the UnSub other than what they were talking about. X3 I don't know anything about House's case, either. They're just…there. Required to get these two together smoothly.**

**So…BEHOLD!**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. If I did, I'd ruin the absolute epicness. :3 They're just amazing.

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"He's blundered." The team looked up as a file smacked onto the table in front of them, each pausing to blink sleep from their eyes before leaning forward. "We've got a survivor." There was a collective sigh and JJ reached forward to pull the folder in front of her.

"She's sixteen, that seems a little young…How do we know it's our guy?"

"Look at her injuries," Hotch told her, taking his seat at the table. "Blunt force trauma to the head, multiple lacerations at her throat…she said a biker was passing by, it's the only reason she's still alive. The UnSub spooked and took off."

"Did she get a good look at him?"

"Said he was wearing some sort of mask when she was attacked, never got to see his face."

"That's our guy, alright." Rossi leaned over to glance at the papers with a frown. "He's ashamed of himself, so he covered his face. It's not only that he's thinking about possible witnesses, he doesn't even want his victims to see him."

"But is he ashamed of what he's doing or just of who he is?" Reid blinked as six sets of eyes turned to him and then quickly attempted to explain. "I mean, we've been thinking he's remorseful of the killings, but that doesn't quite fit. The way he dumps them," The young agent stood, striding to the board on which the case's pictures were tacked, "it's more like he's trying to make sure no one can see their faces, they're always in a position where you see their backs before anything else. What if he's not ashamed of killing them, but rather he's pinning his own self-loathing onto whatever woman he finds?" There was a short silence and he rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "Just an idea…"

"No, that's good, Reid." Rossi pushed himself to his feet, joining the man at the board and glancing over the various shots. "He doesn't care that he's killing them. He probably feels that they deserve to die, that it's better than living with whatever they did." Glancing back toward the table he gestured at the victims list. "Were any of these girls problematic in any way?"

"Clara's mother said she had a tendency to wander off," Prentiss told him, leaning her arms on the laminated wood. "She would be gone all day and then just walk in around midnight claiming she had been at a friend's house."

"Katie had just gotten suspended for a fight in school…the principal said she was never really a bad kid, so it was fairly big news when it happened."

"Right." Hotch stood again, his arms crossing in his usual 'business' stance. "Reid and Morgan, you head over to the hospital to talk to Mariah. You know what we're looking for, but remember what she's gone through; tread carefully, we don't want to push her away." They nodded, Morgan standing and Reid reaching for his shoulder bag. "JJ, talk to the press. Make sure they don't let this leak, we don't want the UnSub running for Italy if he finds out we're closing in. Prentiss, you can call the victim's families, check for any recent behavior problems and who would have found out about them." Glancing at Rossi, the man managed a slight grin. "Rossi…you know where you can be helpful. Just don't end up shooting anyone."

"Only if they give me reason to."

"Of course. Alright guys, if he sticks to his pattern we've got a little under twenty four hours to find this guy. I'm guessing it's less, now that he knows he's messed up. Let's be quick about this."

* * *

"I always hate talking to the victims…" Reid sighed, his hands going into his pockets as they strode back down the hospital hallway. Morgan gave a sympathetic grimace, dodging a nurse that hurried past.

"You and me both, kid. It's all the worse when they're that young."

"I'm guessing JJ will be coming in later, with what little we got." He glanced down at the notebook his held with a frown. "What is it about women that get people to talk more? I mean, it's not like _I'm _intimidating at all." The other man chuckled, clapping one hand to his colleague's shoulder.

"Well maybe you spouting random statistics about assault victims didn't help too much."

"I'm sorry, I get factual when I'm nervous."

"She's sixteen, Reid, it's not like you're trying to ask her out or something." The younger agent sent a rather weary glare. It turned into a look of confusion, however, as they passed the main lobby and continued down the hall.

"Weren't we parked in the front…?"

"Yeah, but I want to talk to the dean. I doubt the UnSub will risk doing anything in a hospital, but I'd still feel better if Mariah got some decent security until we caught him." Reid hesitated slightly before nodding in agreement, jogging a few steps to catch up.

"What's the guy's name?" he inquired, glancing around as if expecting an answer to appear in midair. At Morgan's questioning glance he clarified, "The dean, did you see?"

"Dr. Cuddy, I think. It was somewhere in the lobby."

The office was easy enough to find. There were signs at every hallway intersection pointing to any possible destination. The most difficult part was scanning the large list of various departments to find the correct arrow. Morgan rapped on the glass door while Reid stood back slightly, straining to see into the back of the room. They were greeted with a loud "Come on in," and exchanged a quick baffled glance before entering.

The woman that sat at the desk by the far wall was still engrossed in whatever file she was reading and simply waved the two into the seats, not noticing when they were ignored. After a moment she looked up, brushing dark hair impatiently behind one ear.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Morgan blinked once before glancing around the office as if half hoping to see someone else stepping out of the shadows.

"We're looking for the dean of medicine," he explained, automatically pulling out his credentials and flipping them open quickly. "SSA Morgan, that's Dr. Reid." The young man nodded in greeting as she turned to him for a moment with a raised eyebrow. She looked back at the other agent as he continued. "We're with the BAU, we came to interview the girl who was assaulted yesterday."

"Ah, yes…" Standing, the woman stepped around her desk as Morgan tucked his badge back into his pocket. "I heard about that, the poor girl." She paused before holding out one hand. "I'm Dr. Lisa Cuddy. I'm glad you two stopped by." Her introduction was met with a short silence and she didn't fail to notice the two pairs of eyes widen considerably. With a small smirk, Cuddy let her hand fall back to her side. "Let me guess; you didn't expect me to be sitting behind that desk, am I right?" Reid swallowed, clearing his throat quickly before he spoke.

"Well, statistically speaking, female deans of medicine are extraordinarily rare. In fact, there were only eleven promoted in the past year, although -"

"I think she gets it, Reid," Morgan cut in with a rather weary grin. The dean smiled and shook her head, arms crossing.

"You're looking at the twelfth," she stated simply. "Now, what should I -"

"Why did you deny the transplant?" At the sudden voice, both men turned quickly toward the door, Morgan's hand halfway to his holster before he spotted the speaker. A rather tall, scruffy man stood just inside the room. He was leaning heavily on a cane in his right hand and now glaring at Cuddy, apparently oblivious to the others. The woman paused, eyes rising as if asking for patience before glancing at her visitors apologetically.

"Excuse me just a moment," she murmured. Stepping forward, her eyes then narrowed slightly at the newcomer, a gaze which he met levelly. "House, can't you see I'm actually in the middle of something _important_?" she hissed. He looked at the two FBI agents quickly before turning back to his accuser.

"Yeah, so am I. You know, the whole 'saving people's lives' thing is fairly far up there in importance, or so people keep telling me. It's rather hard to do, though, if certain boards keep _denying _my transplants." Cuddy's arms fell to her side again and she seemed to almost laugh.

"This idea is insane, you know that?" she demanded. "There is _nothing _wrong with that woman's heart, it's her liver that's failing!"

"Yes but we can save the liver if we fix her heart, I even explained it on that stupid form I have to fill out every time I try and help someone."

"I don't understand how you can continue to assume…"

Reid glanced at his companion, eyes fairly wide as the two continued to bicker. "Who is _he?_" the man muttered. Morgan simply shrugged, his customary 'profiling' look set on his face. It was an automatic reaction when someone that odd waltzed into a conversation.

"I'm not sure…I'm guessing he works here, probably just one of the doctors. He's not wearing the coat though, which is odd, and Cuddy seems used to this sort of argument."

"My ears are burning!" They both started slightly, looking up again and found House now staring at them critically. "Who're these guys?" The question was apparently directed at Cuddy, though his gaze never left the agents. The woman gave a weary sigh before gesturing at each in turn as she introduced them.

"SSA Morgan and Dr. Reid. They work for the FBI." House's eyes widened, though his expression never shifted from the fairly condescending look he had entered with.

"FBI? What are you looking for, doctors skipping their taxes?"

"That's the IRS, House…"

"Same thing." He waved one hand vaguely and stepped further into the room. "So why are you a doctor if you're in the FBI?" the man demanded, glancing Reid over with as much intensity as Morgan was observing him.

"I have a PHD in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering," the profiler told him, one hand going to pull idly at the strap of his bag. This statement received a raised brow and House seemed to consider him in a new light.

"Three of them? How old are you?"

"Twenty eight," Reid answered easily. "Actually, there've been a surprising amount of children graduating early in the past few years, the youngest was ten when he got his degree and started teaching at a university when he was seventeen. It's not uncommon for -" He trailed off at a look from Morgan and sent the other agent an apologetic glance. There was a short silence and though the scruffy doctor didn't seem fazed, Cuddy was now looking at Reid with rarely-seen respect. It was Morgan that broke in again, his arms crossing.

"We're with the Behavior Analysis Unit," he explained. "We were just doing an interview."

"Great," House muttered. "Now on top of paranoid doctors and patients, we have paranoid FBI agents running around this place." He turned back to his boss, one hand intermittently opening and closing at his side. "Now will you just sign that transplant paper?"

"I told you," She slipped easily back into the previous debate and Morgan's eyes narrowed, "there's no _reason. _You're just going on one of your hunches and if it doesn't work we're back at square one."

"Actually if it doesn't work she probably won't live through Wednesday…"

"How long have you been on the pills?" The room fell silent and all three turned to give Morgan a questioning look. He kept his eyes on House, barely restraining a smirk.

"What?"

"You're an addict," the black man explained, gesturing at him vaguely. "The limp gives you the excuse, but you probably wouldn't stop even if the pain went away. You keep almost reaching into your pocket but stop before you get there." He did grin now as the doctor's eyes narrowed slightly. "What, you worried a couple of behavior analysts will file a report against you?" There was a pause. Cuddy seemed to be struggling with the decision of who to back up. House finally grunted, shifting his weight slightly to look at Reid.

"Asperger's, is it?" he asked suddenly. Morgan seemed slightly taken aback at the sudden switch in topic and failed to notice Reid's face stiffen.

"What are you-"

"A mild case, I'm sure," the doctor continued. "Probably doesn't show very much, but it's still identifiable."

"What makes you say that?" the younger agent asked and House simply waved one hand nonchalantly.

"It's not that hard, kid," he said. "PHDs at that age are really less common than you think, but nearly everyone that manages it has some form of autism. You tend to concentrate on your statistics and get off topic easily." Glancing at Morgan he added, "I saw you cut him off. He does that a lot, doesn't he?"

"You have _no _right to-"

"No, Morgan." Reid put up one hand and considered the strange man carefully. "I've got it." He shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. "You're good, I'll admit. I bet practically living in this place helps." At the incredulous looks he pointed to House. "Hasn't shaved in at least a day, but there isn't enough to have grown it on purpose. Clothes wrinkled, hair's fairly tangled…How long has it been since you went home?"

"When were you shot?" the diagnostician cut in, ignoring the question. "Favoring your left leg very slightly, enough to indicate a recent surgery on the other. Judging by your position, I'm guessing it was some dramatic standoff that ended badly, eh?"

"You're not married," Reid noted. "Probably have no reason to go home other than to get away from the job. This medical thing is all you really have. Your 'wit' and intellect are all anyone know you for, and your afraid that if you lose that, there'll be nothing else left in your life."

"_You _were an addict," House observed. "Probably went clean a few months ago. Your arms are pale like you used to keep your sleeves rolled down. There are a few visible scars below the elbow, and I'll bet there would be more if someone checked. Was it a pain killer for the gunshot, then?"

"A schizophrenic serial killer, actually. So how long has it been since she made your leg hurt?" He jerked his head at Cuddy who's eyes had been steadily widening through the entire conversation. The room - once again - fell silent with both men staring at each other as if inviting the other to continue. House finally snorted, tapping at his cane.

"What, is that it?"

"Well you'd be much easier to profile if you'd committed a spree of murders," Reid told him with a shrug. "If you like I could take a look around your office as well…"

"Feel free, if I can get a couple of blood samples and access to your medical records." After another stretched-out quiet, the doctor gave another snort, turning around. "If you two start investigating me I'll convince the FBI that it's _crucial _I get the records from every single check-up you've had. Cuddy, just sign that transplant paper. We've only got a day or so otherwise." The glass door slid shut behind him as he left and Cuddy sighed, one hand running over her face.

"I have to apologize for him," she muttered. "There's not really any way to control the man, and he's the best diagnostician in the country so I can't exactly fire him with a clear conscious." Reid shrugged, pulling his bag further up his shoulder.

"That was probably the first time I've had someone profiling _me _right back," he commented. "Trust me, we've met worse than House." The dean allowed a very small smile before striding back to her desk and sinking into the chair.

"So, what was it you needed?" Morgan seemed to shake himself out of a trance and blinked a few times.

"Right…the assault victim, Mariah, we think it'd be best if there was a little extra security set around her…"

* * *

As the two agents stepped back into the hallway, Reid glanced back and chuckled softly.

"What's up, kid?"

"That paper." He jerked one finger back at the office. "She's signing something…how much would you bet that's the transplant form?" Morgan followed his gaze and grinned.

"I certainly wouldn't bet against it. Now c'mon, Hotch is expecting us back in half an hour." They were silent for a minute or so as they strode back toward the main entrance before the older man broke it as he dodged around a few nurses. "That was impressive, Reid."

"What was?"

"How you handled that House guy." Dark eyes glanced over quickly and he grinned. "I didn't know you could pick stuff out that quickly." Reid shrugged, holding the strap of his bag tightly.

"Yeah well, don't expect it constantly," he warned. "I work better when there's more pressure. Having a guy shove your own profile down your throat counts." Morgan chuckled, then cut off as his phone buzzed. He instinctively flipped it open as they stepped into the parking lot.

"Yeah, Hotch… Yeah, we're just leaving. I'd warn JJ that she'll probably need to come down her herself, the girl's a bit frantic… Nah, not much, but we got a couple details." After a slight pause, he grinned and added "When they come over, tell them to look up a doctor named House. He might interest them. Yeah, we'll see ya in a few." The phone clicked as he shut it, tucking it into his pocket again. Reid laughed, eyes rolling.

"You're cruel, Morgan."

"They'll handle him. Might be an interesting story to hear later."

"Can I drive back?"

"Not on your life, kid."

* * *

**So…Yeah, I got the House crew down pretty well, I think, due to another crossover with them. The Criminal Minds team however…they're hard. I'd like to get more practice, especially with Reid.**

**Please review! ^^ I wanna know how to improve these guys, especially Reid and Morgan. Any review at all is loved, though!**

**Long live the two most epic dramas ever!**

**~Waggy**


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